BONDING

For a few months now, I've been volunteering for Arc En Ciel, the children's centre I've already told you about. I try to teach some English, using roughly the same methods I use at school. Sometimes I feel successful, sometimes I have an impression that the kids are not very much into it. But I do go there regularly (unless I'm ill, which has been happening a lot lately) and I spend some time with the kids. As I only go once a week, the bonding ritual has been stretching in time. I even came to think that we might not manage to work out a relationship before I have to leave. The latter, by the way, wouldn't be that bad for the kids either, since it means they wouldn't miss me. Nevertheless, yesterday everything changed.

Initially, two other volunteers and I were going to take the kids to the beach. Such outings are organised a couple of times a month, and I think it's an excellent idea. However, the trip was cancelled by the Sister who runs the centre, as the kids had misbehaved in an unacceptable way. The Sister proposed that we came in and did some activities indoors, to which we instantly consented. After a vehement exchange of e-mails, we settled upon the "Christmas Crafts Morning" idea, which included producing various types of Christmas tree ornaments, origamiing and even making the tree itself from a wooden board (or what some might call "macho crafting").

We were surprised at how much enthusiasm was provoked by the crafts atelier. All the kids participated and were very proud of the effects. As you might suspect, I took plenty of pictures, and the children turned out to be fascinated by my camera. Supervising closely, I let them play with it a bit, and we ended up learning how to use the basic options, too. They were extremely careful not to break it, I must admit.

When we were leaving for lunch, the boys asked if we were going to accompany them to the American Embassy's Christmas Party, to which they had been invited. It was supposed to take place that very afternoon, and we were scheduled as chaperons for the event from the beginning. It was lovely to see them smile when we said that yes, indeed, we would go with them. As we came back to pick them up, the boys were already dressed up and beside themselves with excitement. One of them smiled at me and said: Oh, Madame Kasia, you really came back! Why was he surprised? I had promised!

The party was lovely. Lots of tasty food and swings - in short, all you need to give a kid a sugar high! The children were shy, though. They would only get food and drinks when accompanied by one of us, and I did feel a tad moved when R., the youngest boy, put his hand into mine to feel more confident. On our way home they were silent. I knew they felt sad that the day was over.

All in all, the children had a fun day but, to be completely honest, I don't know if it was more fun for them or for me. I felt we really bonded, which is, of course, fantastic. But it also breaks my heart a little. The more I care, the harder it gets, I suppose. And the hardest thing of all is... not to let yourself or the children care too much.

KASIA'S BOOK OF DEEP KNOWLEDGE: ESL TIPS, PART 1

I have been officially working as ESL teacher for nearly four years. The little French school I teach at, Courte Echelle, has become an important part of my daily routine and I can't believe I've told you so little about it! Today's post might be a bit off topic if what you're interested in are exotic African stories. However, I have been thinking about what I've learned while teaching small children (clearly, still so much learning to be done!) and I really feel like putting it in writing. So today's special is a bit different from all the other ones: ESL tips for those who must confront a bunch of scary 6-year-olds on a daily basis.

Routine is not always a bad thing
Actually, kids happen to love it. They need a sense of continuity and they like the safety of knowing what to do. Of course, I am not suggesting that you do the same thing every time! However, I keep the framework of my class pretty much unchanged throughout the year. This means that we start by singing a hello song (and I must admit that we dance a little bit, too) and waving at one another. Then, I take my little magic ball and throw it to one of the kids, asking the question I want to drill (usually two questions, always starting with What's your name?, as this is a relaxing easy English they all know). The first child throws the ball to whoever s/he chooses and now it's her/his turn to ask the question. While all the kids have a go (and, even though it might seem boring, they just love throwing the ball!), I stick the name tags they had made in their first class on the board. Now that all the students' names are up on the board, the class can officially start. And it will always finish in the same way: with a bye-bye song and praising/scolding.

Discipline is a must
English classes are special. We sing, we dance, we play games and the teacher, who speaks in a funny way, is always a bit of a clown. It's not difficult to forget that we're still at school and appropriate behaviour is still a requirement. Believe me, even good children can get extremely naughty if you let them. I still occasionally have discipline problems and I do get exasperated at times. My method is probably the oldest one known to mankind: carrot and stick. I know, I know, there surely exist new fashionable methods to deal with the little monsters, but praising and punishing seems to be working best. At the beginning of the class, all students get a little plus next to their name tag. If they keep it until the end of the lesson, they will get a prize (five minutes for playing a game, singing their favourite song, or simply a sticker). If they lose it (chatting, no homework or no work done in class...), they must watch their diligent friends happily stick their smiley on a behaviour chart, and re-think their strategy for getting one themselves next time. Promising a cool game usually works but remember to be consequent: kids never forget a promise made to them! And when the whole group gets naughty? I punish them by making the next class extremely boring: no songs, no ball, no name tags, no game. Instead, filling out handouts in complete silence. Appropriate behaviour next time guaranteed!

If it's pretty, if it's active, then it's fun!
Kids have to like the materials you bring in. When I started here in Gabon, I had practically nothing when it comes to teaching materials. Internet was my only solution. Surprisingly, it turned out that, if you know where to look, there are thousands of activities available in the web. I downloaded hundreds of colourful flashcards, boardgames, crosswords and ideas. Children love to look at pretty pictures (colourful ones, above all), they want to touch them, they are happy to name the objects and the number of flashcard games is infinite. I let them play with most of the materials (some of which are simply toys, as the mentioned ball or Teddy the teddy bear), and they love it.
Also, don't forget that your little students are, well, little. It's difficult for them to sit calmly in one place and focus on what you're doing. They need to change the activity every ten to fifteen minutes and it's best to include active games - running, jumping and dancing are always a hit - in your lesson. Change the pace as often as you can: after a song do some colouring or writing, then a game including running or hopping, then a quiet activity, and so on... Until the bell rings. Remember not to be in the middle of a game when it does, though - your students will be disappointed!

Important links for desperate teachers
And the not-so-desperate ones, too. I've downloaded tons of wonderful flashcards with matching worksheets from ESL Kids, and MES English was extremely helpful when it comes to all kinds of worksheets (customized ones, too) and games ideas. You can download great ESL songs from DreamEnglish, and Genki English is an amazing source of ingenious games. Oh, and don't forget the downloadable English books that you can print out, colour in and read!

This is only the first load of my ESL conclusions. I will bore you with some more soon. For now, join me in singing the bye-bye song and... I hope I managed to keep my plus!

Top picture: me at school during School's Day. Carrot and stick picture comes from here.

THE RAINBOW KIDS

For a while now I've had a feeling that Africa should be something more than private schools, safari trips and going to the beach. Up till now, my challenges were personal, private: I had to learn French, I had to work with kids, I had to get used to the new way of living and to being white. Above all, I had to find a way to feel happy and fullfilled in my new situation. Before our summer holiday, it had struck me that, all modesty apart, I actually managed to achieve all these goals: my French is not perfect but fluent (whose French is perfect, anyway?), my classes are going well and both parents and children are happy, I am less vulnerable to being called la white in the street, I take regular exercise, I know my way around the city and I'm actually pretty glad to be here. Ok then, I thought, it's really time I gave something back. Enough of being selfish. About time I did something useful.

Instantly, I set my mind on L'Arc-En-Ciel (in English, rainbow), a street children's centre, run by Spanish nuns. I've heard a lot about it, I even know people who volunteer, and so I decided to see for myself what it was all about. I paid my first visit to the centre with a friend who is a regular volunteer. I had a chat with Sister Cova (and don't you imagine a nun in a habit! African trousers and African accent she had!) and we decided that I would come by, initially once a week, to spend an hour or so with the kids on Tuesday afternoons.

The place itself is very basic. I have visited the boys' building (the girls dormitory is two minutes away), where they sleep, eat, have classes and play football. The classroom/dining room/common room is furnished with wooden tables and benches, with two small blackboards on one of the walls, right next to the kitchen door. There is a tiny room with two computers, a large, dark dormitory, and a small office. The building is surrounded with a fence and the entrance is locked with a padlock. The person in charge decides who gets in or out.

In these simple surroundings about seven boys and seven girls live (during the school year, more). These kids, aged from 11 to 16, have no other place to go and difficult past to confront every day. There are stories of abuse, violence and slave work. Some of them escaped their families in search of better lives. However, I don't know the details and I don't feel I need to. If anybody wants to share such private things, they should be able to do it at their pace.

Inevitably, there came the day of my first visit (yesterday afternoon, that is). I was nervous. I had never worked with difficult kids before, and suddenly I had to gain their confidence in French. I figured I would offer them an exchange: I would teach them some English but only if they they taught me some French. The idea came off as a success: they must have thought I was a bit ridiculous but were rather happy to be my teachers for while.

Here's how it went. First, I just chatted with them, got to know their names, told them a bit about myself. Then we learned some English words and played charades with feelings (happy, sad, etc.), which accidentally turned out to be a blast for them (as was my magnificent game of sit down/stand up/sit down/stand up/stand up, where everybody, everybody eventually gets confused). Finally, I told them to teach me some French words, which they had to write on the board for me, at the same time explaining their meaning, which I think is a good language exercise for both parties. Then we played a round of Connect4, which I badly lost, and that was it, an hour had passed.

And you know what the funny thing is? They were no difficult kids at all. They were just kids, some of them more interested than others, some of them exteremly attentive, kids who were happy to be spared somebody's attention, just as all the other students of mine.

I'm coming back next week. And I'm bringing flashcards.

The rainbow picture I found here.

ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES KASIA... HAPPY

I've been looking through my entries on this blog and I realised that I told you hardly anything about what I really do in Libreville. That is, apart from buying African fabrics and eating porcupines. I haven't written anything about my job.

As you can see in the picture (which now seems a tad creepy but I'll leave it for the lack of a better one), I work with children. I am the English teacher at Courte Echelle, a private elementary school in one of the better quartiers of Libreville. My students are mainly French, Gabonese and Libanese, aged from 3 to 10. I teach all the classes and consequently know all the children at school. This results in thousands of hellos every day and constant mind-breaking doubts when it comes to kids' names.

As you are perfectly aware, I'd never taught at a real school. I've done private lessons and language academies but this here, my friends, is something different. Here the children fall down and hurt themselves, they cry and fight and tell on their friends - and the teacher needs to react. Here you teach black children to respect white children and white chilren to respect black children. You're a role-model. Whatever you say or do might be copied and learned. Constant awareness, ladies and gentlemen!

Teaching "the little blonde heads" (as they were once referred to by someone) is not at all easy. They very often misbehave because they don't consider English a legitimate class. Even though now I speak enough French to communicate my anger (Je suis triste! Je suis fâché! Arrête!), I never use it (keeping them under the illusion that I speak no French seems to be working quite well) and thus it takes me hours to get through with my message. Any message, for that matter. But it's cute to hear them shout in shock Ha! Teacherrr! Vous parlez francais! whenever they accidentaly hear me say a word in their language.

My experience tells me children can be divided into several categories:
- smart and ambitious: they sit quietly, listen, know everything and want to learn; my favourite kind!
- smart and naughty: they misbehave but then answer any question with a huge smile and always know the answer; fantastic at distracting the less talented ones!
- smart and lazy: you know they could advance quickly but they just do nothing; frustrating!
- silly but motivated: they really want to impress but learn slowly; I also like these.
- troubled: learning disabilites, diseases, hyperactivity... you name it; they will drive you nuts but have an excuse.
- stupid and lazy: the worst kind; they do nothing in class, they don't study, they have attitude problems and, above all, they are simply stupid. Do I sound harsh and unfair? Spend a week at my school before you judge me.

I'm trying different things I'd never tried before. I teach songs. I tell stories. I try to reduce the amount of time spent on crafts (which with the very little ones is still considerable... but with twenty 5-year-olds can you blame me?). I prepare hundreds of flashcards and bingos. I do tests. I shout. I punish. I get depressed. I get elated. I get pictures and hugs and hellos and mynamesisjuliettes.

Every now and then I feel like quitting. Every now and then I feel quite proud of myself. Ups and downs, as in any job. I like most of the children and I get a lot of satisfaction when I see them advance. All in all, the balance is positive, although it is definitely not a job for life.

Today I've started English classes at the European Commission. For the record, it was not Jandro who recommended me, it was a former student. I'm very thrilled to work with adults again. They probably won't draw pictures for me but it's a relief to be understood without repeating everything five thousand times. And they don't share bathroom details with me. And they won't cry. Or hurt their knees.

All this put together plus my French classes (twice a week) plus a private Spanish class I give (once a week) keeps me pretty busy. A teacher full time. Better this than the gym-supermarket-lunch-dinner routine, I'm sure.